Another Tactic
by Gibibi
Summary: Garuru reviews the problematic situation with his brother, and his unsuccessful attempts at solving it so far.


_Author's Notes:_

This is my first fanfiction ever. I just got curious after a while about the odd things happening to the Keroro Platoon, like Giroro's sudden promotion to Chui that seemingly dropped out of the sky. It sort of made sense to me that Garuru would be behind some of them, since he is a caring older brother, just also very intimidating and high ranking.

Ah, and a note about about the robots: I assumed that Garuru figured it really was the Keroro Platoon behind the robberies. Pururu definitely thought so, and she's sharp. Fuyuki was also tricked by the robots' realism when he first met them; he's practically a detective, and spotted Momoka in trouble on the beach as an adult when no one else did. I'm assuming that if those two didn't catch it at first, then odds are good Garuru wouldn't either. Plus Garuru has definitely been fooled by the Keroro-power-effect before (in the Kero Zero Short Movie, he said that Keroro had "fought bravely" when Keroro had just... been his chaotic self.)

So yeah.

This fanfiction runs up to right after the episode where Pururu gets stationed with the Keroro Platoon, episode 157. I hope you enjoy it, I tried very hard to follow cannon.

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_**Tactics:**_

Klaxons sounded, echoing through the halls.

Garuru Chui, head of the Garuru Platoon rolled silently out of the latest model in Keroninan soldier-beds, the BK 226, a model designed for optimal rest while allowing rapid alertness recovery upon waking. Efficient. The way he liked things.

The fact that his little brother still chose to sleep in a tent designed in his father's day, with a cheap standard issue sleeping bag was puzzling, but that was the least of Garuru's concerns in that area.

He went about his morning ritual in the base's state-of-the-art washrooms, sharpening his teeth methodically, brushing them with the in latest in military anti-Carie's War toothpaste (salt flavored), and cleaning his yellow visor.

Then he made his way to the base's grand reference library and sat down to work; he only had a few more hours before it would be time to assemble his platoon again from their holiday break. He reviewed the notes in front of him again, and felt a headache starting.

At the top of the first page, a picture of his little brother was clipped. Others said that Giroro was red, but to Garuru, his cute little brother would always be a radiant orange and gold through his visor, like their father. And like their father, Giroro had a knack for making friends, for having people see past the glaring eyes and honed fangs that were a family trademark.

And that knack had gotten him into trouble, despite everything Garuru had tried to do for his brother. Again Garuru asked himself: where was the beginning? Target and destroy the heart of a problem, and the battle is won. It was the first law of tactics. Because unfortunately Giroro, while good at strategy, had never excelled at the subject. And real hearts were the cause of the dilemma.

Garuru clenched his sleek G-9 mechanical pencil in his fist, then fanned his papers out in one sudden sweep of his hand. There: the picture of Hinata Natsumi, Pekoponian Warrior, in an apron and slippers. How did she grip his dutiful little brother so tightly? According to all data, Pekoponians didn't have the technology for mind control. But Giroro had changed. The notes and photos in front of him showed that, without a doubt.

Growing up, Garuru had honed himself to be a strong role model for Giroro each day, with the same diligence that he used to care for his fangs. He'd never exactly had hearts to hearts with his brother, but he'd felt that his training examples, while harsh, were sufficient, and that Giroro had always respected and listened to him, even if he didn't understand the lesson fully at the time. Giroro was one of the family; he understood duty, and understood sacrifice. Giroro understood that dedication to missions came before anything else.

Or at least he had.

Garuru reviewed the copy of his brother's military records again: High grades in training, graduating military school as Gocho, the same rank as their father. Assessed to go far in the military, by both the evaluators and Garuru himself. A note registering his assignment to serve in the Keroro Platoon. Then nothing more at all, except for empty space at the bottom of the page and the words "Attempt at Invasion Ongoing."

Garuru honestly had looked forward to seeing Giroro shine with his own military achievements. The invasion mission to Pekopon was supposed to be the first of many, for the glory of Keron. But things had gone wrong quickly.

He flipped through the paper fan, selecting the records kept on Pekopon and the Keroro Platoon as a whole. The main force, the Grand Star, had withdrawn early on in the invasion attempt, leaving only his brother's platoon to assess the situation and invade. Months had gone by, with only a few reports and homework assignments written in Keroro's sloppy handwriting sent back, despite the Keroro platoon's enormous invasion expenses. There had been doodles of some sort of fearsome mobile machinery scrawled in the margins of each report, always assumed to be part of Keroro's next battle tactic, but nothing had come of them as time went on.

Eventually headquarters had seen fit to test the competency of the Keroro Platoon. Of course he'd volunteered his own, newly assembled platoon for the job. His soldiers were all young, but they were eager for the assignment, for their own reasons. And who would be better to test Giroro's competency than himself, who had helped train him?

The results of the test were not only in the Keroro Platoon's military file, but they were also in the Garuru Platoon's papers, and a summary was written in his own, crisp, handwriting next to photos gathered by Tororo Shinpei.

To his relief and chagrin, it was clear that the Keroro platoon, while unorthodox, was not incompetent. Instead, they all seemed to have bonded with native Pekoponians, including his brother, who had gone so far as to make Keronian weapons for a female warrior.

Delays aside, it had been good to confirm that the Keroro platoon was a capable one, and functioned as easily one of the most powerful groups in the Keron Army—when they became serious. He'd filed his report to headquarters, and had strongly recommended that an Invasion Timer be sent immediately to give the headstrong Keroro Gunso a time limit.

That was when he had first begun to realize that common sense strategies had little effect around Keroro and the Hinata family.

The Invasion Timer had been unsuccessful. It had run down in the half year allotted, and still only hastily written reports of glorified failure had been sent from Pekopon. Yet, somehow, even once the Grand Star and the limited edition X-52 weapons had arrived at the site, they had declined to invade, deciding instead to leave the Keroro platoon entrenched on Pekopon while they deliberated what to do. They had even increased the platoon's invasion budget in the meantime, a totally unprecedented course of action from everything he had researched.

Even now, the wearers of the Keron Stars at Headquarters scratched their heads and debated the topic. Come to that, for some odd reason, every time he stayed too long on Keron, he himself began to feel ambivalent about which action would be best.

Garuru shook his head, startling the officers studying Imbalanced Operations of Critical Importance at the other table near him. He waved his hand silently in apology, (a military library, no matter how elite, still required quiet), then pulled out another set of notes from his stack. These papers were completely unofficial and written in his own coded short hand for security. Paper was safer than digital records near Tororo Shinpei.

Ambivalence was a strategy itself, and thus fine up to a certain point. But the business with the Keroro Platoon's factory thefts had required his immediate action. The battle had been critically needed mental training for his platoon, keeping his soldiers from becoming overconfident. But his straight-laced little brother? Mixed up in crime? Aside from the shame it would bring to the Keron Army, it would destroy their father, to know that Giroro had fallen to unprincipled influences, even if his skills at weaponry were improving.

Luckily after the Weapons Factory explosion the Keroro Platoon had settled back into their usual habit of non-results. He'd paid for the mess out of the Garuru Platoon's budget, and smoothed things over, marking it as a very expensive training session. Officially, the Garuru Platoon should not have been investigating in the first place after their top secret mission, so once damages were paid, the topic was dropped by the indecisive Keron Star Leaders.

They had dropped it. For himself, he had reasoned that if pure combat could not force his brother's hand anymore, guile would take care of the issue with his straight-forward brother.

He had thought.

Garuru slumped face first onto the table, so uncharacteristic of him that when he looked up again, everyone in the library, including the librarian was staring at him. They looked away quickly though, with hushed whispers of how it must be a knotty problem having to do with Galactic security.

If only it was something that easy, Garuru thought.

He'd been sure that when he'd nominated Giroro for the promotion to Chui, the problem would be solved. Giroro would leave the stale invasion of Pekopon, Keroro, and his bond with the female warrior behind, and lead his own platoon to success after success. It had taken some doing, but his words of recommendation combined with Giroro's training records had weight with the military higher-ups.

If Giroro couldn't follow his original childhood dream of working for the Space Express, standing with the same military rank as his revered older brother would be an acceptable substitute.

At least, it would have been for the old Giroro.

After the nomination for Giroro's promotion had been reviewed and accepted, Garuru had declined missions that would take his platoon off of Keron while he waited to congratulate Giroro when he arrived. But days had gone by, then weeks, and still no Giroro checking into Headquarters to accept his tremendous promotion.

Finally, once the period of acceptance had run out, Garuru had seen his little brother arrive, riding on his treasured Space Express, smelling of gun oil and Pekoponian grasses. He was wearing his neatly tucked field backback, exactly as Garuru had taught him. But he had feigned total innocence and shock over the expired time limit far too realistically for Garuru's tastes.

His honest little brother had finally learned to bluff occasionally during his stay on Pekopon, it seemed.

And once it was very clear that the promotion was void, Giroro had been quick to buy a ticket back to Pekopon, the whole time with a distracted and happy look on his face, as though something more wonderful and a three rank promotion waited for him.

Garuru rubbed his forehead, starting to look at a spread of space newspaper clippings he'd assembled.

Truly, his fierce little brother was beginning to act more and more the defender of Pekopon than an invader. Garuru had even had to take his platoon towards Pekopon during vacation time to intercept the world destroyer ZeZeZe, because it seemed all too probable that Giroro would not leave the planet, even in the face of destruction. And sure enough, when they had arrived, there was Giroro with the Keroro Platoon, piloting some ancient battle machinery in the company of Pekoponians, working to defend the planet.

It was true that Keroro's unorthodox leadership had paid off in destroying ZeZeZe. They had also later defeated the ancient KiruMiran and Kiruru systems, and defeated other would-be invaders. Proof of strength, for sure, but nothing that could be put on official records as missions completed. His hardworking little brother was still hidden in the shadows of some backwater planet, his records almost totally devoid of military triumph as far as Keron was concerned.

What kind of conscientious invader did things like that? Only one possibly not in their right mind anymore, was the answer.

Garuru growled lightly to himself, and stacked his notes and papers back into order. He had one last gambit to try, and it was the most unsavory to him. If force, promotions, or threats of death couldn't prevent his brother from wasting his career on Pekopon, perhaps love would.

Pururu Kangocho.

If he recalled correctly, his brother had liked her very much as a tadpole, in his quiet way. There was certainly much to like: she was sharp, extraordinarily competent at her job, and quite pretty, even as the pale brown she appeared to be through his yellow visor.

And surprisingly, the wily Keroro had agreed without questions to let her station with them on Pekopon, even knowing she owed her alliances to the Garuru platoon.

Of course Pururu herself didn't know all of the reasons he had suggested she stay on Pekopon; only that she had been assigned to secretly send him reports from time to time. Her assessements of Giroro's mental state and the invasion progress were discouraging, (he'd winced when even Pururu had stated that his brother's attachment to the Pekoponian warrior Natsumi as long standing and "rather sweet") but the theory remained sound in principle. One way or another, having an attractive and strong Keronian female around had a good chance of reminding Giroro who he was, and what his mission was. If not immediately, then over time his attachment might shift back, and the invasion would roll forwards with his utter commitment. First loves were notoriously hard to forget.

In the meantime… Garuru made a few strategic marks on a fresh sheet, then stood and walked out with his papers. He noted with surprise that most of the Keronians still in the library were saluting him with tears in their eyes as he went.

"Good luck with the battle, sir" one of them said.

"Thank you. I fully intend to win this war," Garuru answered, saluting back, his hat and visor hiding his expression. They couldn't know, could they?

"Garuru Chui must be doing difficult, secret work on the Omega Belt," he heard another whispered as he left. "I hear his platoon is leaving today."

Garuru shook his head, his relief as hidden as his concern. They were somewhat close to right, but not entirely. Their official mission would take the remaining members of his platoon to the war strewn Zeta Fields, not the Omega.

But they were correct that the mission he was reviewing in the library was absolutely top secret, and far more difficult that it had any right to be. Plans, no matter how cunning, had a way of twisting out of shape around Keroro Gunso, and with the female warrior Natsumi added to the unstable equation...

Garuru flicked open his belt buckle with one hand, revealing a picture of his orange-gold brother and father.

Everyone needs a project outside of work, he thought wryly, shutting it again as he arrived at his custom spacecraft. He would rescue his adorable little brother's career yet.


End file.
